An Endless Tale
by AhiFlame
Summary: JackAna. They always say opposites attract, but what if said opposites want each other dead? COMPLETE!
1. Part 1

**An Endless Tale**

**Part 1**

                 A man sat perched on a stool at the bar counter, one hand clutching the handle of a half-full mug.  He stared blankly into the amber liquid with kohl-rimmed eyes, his mind obviously somewhere else.  He wore the casual grab of a sailor, his loose white shirt draped over his slumped shoulders.  His free hand was unnaturally still, lying motionless on the stone counter.  Several strands of beads intertwined with rough braids adorned his hair; even his beard was done up in two small beaded braids.  His cutlass and pistol were faithfully strapped to his side, looking almost innocent when combined with the man's inactivity.  The seats beside him were vacant, his strange appearance and silence unnerving any who would have taken residence on the stools.

                Across the tavern, two others sat together at a table, speaking in hushed voices.  One was a tall, lanky male with dark hair and a goatee.  He wore the garments of a merchant captain and his dark blue eyes danced over the rim of his mug.  The other was a medium-skinned female with thick, dark hair done up in a bun.  She wore a low-cut, figure-fitting burgundy dress.  Her intense coffee-colored eyes were locked on her accomplice's gaze.

                "Where's this man ye told me about?"  The woman whispered.

                The man nodded towards the eccentric-looking figure slumped at the bar.  The woman glanced over her shoulder, quickly memorizing the man before turning back.

                "Him?" she asked, her lip curling slightly in disgust.

                "Him."  The other replied with a nod and a sadistic grin.

                "Alright," she agreed, more than slightly reluctantly.

                "'Member, once th' job is done, bring it t' me an' keep anythin' else ye want fer yerself."

                "In addition to the fee ye promised me, aye?"

                The man nodded slowly, obviously displeased at the reminder.  "Aye.  Fifty pounds an' a boat.  Now git goin'."

                With a curt nod, the woman stood.  As she turned her back on him, the skirt of her dress swirled around her ankles before falling straight once more.

                "Have yer fun while ye can lass."  The man whispered into his mug.  Although the statement was addressed to her, it was not meant to be heard.  The man took a long drink of his liquor.

                Ana sauntered casually over to the bar and paused behind the man in question.  She took a deep breath to establish her concentration and cool composure.  As much as she despised this act, this was not the first time she had lured a sailor into giving her what she wanted.

                "Move on lass.  I'm in no mood fer company."  The man before her growled, not even glancing over his shoulder to fully acknowledge her.

                A familiar phrase from her past echoed through her mind, reminding her that 'no' was not an acceptable answer.

                _Get in, get close, destroy_.

                "Why so gruff, sir?"

                "None o' yer business."  The man snapped, clutching the handle of his mug tighter.

                "So be it," Ana huffed, turning on her heel and making sure her skirt brushed the back side of his leg.  From what she had heard of the man, Jack Sparrow was soft-hearted and never turned down company.

                A few steps later, her suspicions were confirmed.

                "Lass, wait."

                She stopped mid-step, slowly looking over her shoulder at him and allowing her most innocent pout to surface.  Jack sighed, rubbing a hand down his face.

                "Come 'ere."

                Ana complied, attempting to reach goal number one.  She placed herself gracefully on the stool to Jack's right and casually placed a hand on his right arm.

                "There was no need fer me t' be so rude," Jack began, his tone adding sincerity to the words.  "Let me buy you a drink?  I'll need yer name, though."

                Ana smiled widely and nodded.  "Jus' a light ale, if ye please."

                "And your name?"

                "Joanna."

~*~

                "Cap'n Sparrow,"

                "Aye?"

                "I need t' talk t' ye…in private."  Ana slurred lightly, running her hands down his arms while standing behind his swaying form.

                Jack clumsily glanced over his shoulder at her, his eyes revealing just how much he had had to drink.  "'lright, luv.  Le's take it upstairs, aye?"

                Ana nodded and chuckled, attempting to act in a drunken manner and still make it believable.

                The two stumbled toward the stairs of the tavern, Jack more so, and they ineptly made their way up the back stairs.

                "Thi' way," Jack mumbled, staggering to the right and down a narrow corridor.

                Ana followed him slowly, many thoughts running through her slightly hazed mind, but always keeping her sights on the prize.  Jack came to a halt at the third door down, and, after releasing the tip of the bolt, he lightly kicked the baseboard and the door opened with a creak.

                Jack stepped back from the open door and turned to Ana.  He bowed, stunningly stretching his arms at shoulder height.  "After ye, milady."

                Ana giggled in a high-pitched voice as she had heard many a wench do from her multiple stays in Tortuga.  She then strutted grandly into the room, sitting in a chair on her way.  Jack followed immediately after, closing the door firmly.  He shrugged off his shirt casually, revealing the various marks on his tan skin.  He tossed the shift on the floor near the worn wooden desk and went to stand before Ana.

                "Now wha', cap'n?"  Ana asked, purposefully slurring her words.

                "Wha' e'er ye like, luv."  Jack replied with a sloppy grin that, to her dismay, caused her heart to flutter.  She returned the grin and rose to her own feet before placing her fingertips on his chest, momentarily reveling at how muscular the man really was.  She recovered quickly and put weight behind the command.  Given his highly inebriated state, the task of getting him on the bed proved itself quite simple.  Jack moved back from the pressure and, a few steps later, found himself on his back, cushioned by the bed's mattress.  He looked up at Ana somewhat quizzically, to which she slowly, slyly, grinned.

                Jack shifted his position so that he was lying on half the bed, instead of taking up the foot space, then patted the open half.

                Ana regarded the drunken, shirtless pirate on the bed before her.  He was very muscular indeed, but his body was marred by several scars.  Some were obviously from sword nicks and bullets, while others proved to have more mysterious origins.  Such as the one running like a bolt of lightning along his left forearm.

                "Was th' matter, luv?"  Jack drawled, his brown, slightly glazed eyes reflecting mischief.

                Ana snapped out of her reverie and regained her composure.  She sauntered to the bed and climbed onto the mattress beside Jack.  She braced herself over him, ignoring the fact that the right strap of her dress slid off her shoulder in the process.  "Nothin'."  She purred into his ear, her voice seductive.

                Jack placed his hands on her waist, gently running them up and down her sides.  Ana chuckled ever so slightly as his hands hit a ticklish spot.  Jack grinned up at her, gold teeth shining and eyes half closed as an effect of the drinks he had consumed earlier.

                Ana's hand traveled unnoticed to the pillow beside Jack's head.  She returned the grin to ensure no suspicions were raised, doing her best to imitate his drunken condition.

                "So luv, wha's yer name?"

                "I tol' ye, 's Joanna."

                "Nay, tell me yer _real_ name."  Jack persisted, his eyes becoming much more focused than they had been a moment ago.

                Ana took in a sharp breath, realizing he had been toying with her at least half as much as she was with him.  With a frown of anger, she lifted the pillow up and quickly placed it over his face.  Using both hands, she kept the pillow pinned firmly in place.  She had to call on all her strength to keep the pillow over his head as the man thrashed wildly in an attempt to get a breath.  Ana gritted her teeth as one of his fists connected with her elbow, almost causing her to lose her grip on the pillow.  Much to her relief, his movements soon became sluggish, then slowed until they were only the occasional twitch.  Finally, the man laid still.

                Ana cautiously lifted the pillow from his face and looked down.  His eyes were shut and his mouth slightly ajar.  His skin had a slight bluish tint from the oxygen deprivation, but so far as anyone else could tell, he was simply asleep.

                She returned the pillow to its rightful place on the bed, then slipped off the man's motionless body.  She pulled the strap of her dress back onto her shoulder and took her hair from its bun.  Most had fallen out during the struggle and she didn't feel the need to put it back up.  Glancing around the room, she silently searched for his belongings.  She spotted them laid carelessly on a chair parallel to the bed.  Truthfully, it was too close to the bed for her liking, but she had a job to do.  Steeling herself, she stepped up to the chair, sorted through the objects until she found her prize, then straightened.  Unable to stand being in the same room as the man she had just killed, she dashed out, leaving the door only half closed in her wake.

~*~

                The next morning dawned bright and early, allowing the forenoon rays of sunlight to flood through the un-curtained windows.  The tendrils of light gently caressed the bronzed skin of the man lying stationary on the bed.

                Outside, sitting on a tree branch was a small, scruffy-looking bird.  Brown, black, and white splotches of color decorated the small creature's feathers and its dark, beady eyes caught the sunlight as it tilted its head.  The bird hopped down to a lower branch, then edged its way toward the open window.  It peered curiously through the porthole at the sleeping man and cocked it's head inquiringly.

                Jack jumped into consciousness at a loud screech from just outside the window.  His rapid heartbeat reverberated through his skull as he faced the direction from whence the sound had come.  The most he caught of the vocal intruder was the beating of wings and a flash of dark feathers.  He sighed to himself and ran his hands down his face wearily.

                It was then that memories of the previous night exploded through his mind and his hands dropped.  Details and possible explanations flitted through his thoughts and his eyes widened.

                "No…" he muttered with dread, springing to his feet.  He crossed the room in three large steps to where he had discarded his effects the night before.  He dropped to his knees right away and began frantically sorting through his belongings.  Not finding the article for which he was searching, he looked up with defeat written across his features at the partially open door.

                "No."

~*~

                Jack listlessly stumbled down the tavern's back stairs, ignoring the various scattered bottles and mugs that littered his way.  He had donned his shirt before leaving his room, but he hadn't had the presence of mind to strap on his cutlass or pistol.

                His mind was focused on other, more pressing matters.

                His compass was now missing, no doubt stolen by that woman.  But what could she have wanted with a compass that doesn't point north?  He seriously doubted she knew of the compass's origins—he was almost positive that the only ones who knew its secret were himself and his mutinous crew.  What did she want it for then?

                His musings were cut short as his body connected with a tall, sturdy figure.  His eyes snapped back into focus as he stepped back to get a good look at this roadblock.  At a quick glance, the man before him was tall, dark-haired, and friendly-faced.

                Jack placed his hands together, palm-to-palm, and ducked his head briefly.  "Apologies, I wasn't paying attention."

                The taller man smiled warmly.  "No worries, mate.  It were my fault as well.  Excuse me if I seem t' be prying, but ye seem upset.  May I ask why?"

                "Possession issues with someone.  We didn't exactly see eye t' eye…I saw it as mine an' they saw it as theirs."  Jack replied with an indifferent shrug.

                "Ah, a bit o' a theft, eh?"  The other said with a knowing grin.

                Jack nodded.  "Wha's yer name?"

                "Muent, Captain John Muent.  An' ye?"

                "Jack Sparrow."  Jack replied, extending his right hand.

                Muent nodded and grasped Jack's proffered hand.  "Pleasure.  Care fer a drink?"

                Jack pondered the offer for only a moment before nodding.  "Much obliged.  A rum if ye please."

                Muent nodded.  "You git th' table an' I'll git the drinks."

                Jack turned from his newfound companion and sauntered over to one of the many empty tables.  Muent joined him a few minutes later, two full mugs in hand.  He placed the mugs on the table, sat, then slid one of the drinks across to Jack.  Jack caught the mug, then raised it to face level, enjoying the scent of the amber liquid.  Muent raised his own mug, signaling a toast.

                "T' new tales, aye?"

                "Aye, t' new tales."  Jack repeated with a nod before the two men clanked their mugs together and took long, deep drinks.

                Muent lowered his mug first and watched as Jack continued to greedily drink his liquor down.  Finally, Jack's mug met the table, the contents almost gone.  Jack swallowed dramatically before bringing the rim of the mug to his lips once more.  Muent noted with some interest that Jack's motions were becoming more sluggish and his eyelids seemed heavier.

                The mug returned to the tabletop once more, this time remaining as it was empty.  Moments later, the change in the pirate's posture was unmistakable:  he was slouching, almost to the point of laying on the table, and looking down at the mug through glazed eyes half-hidden beneath heavily hooded eyelids.

                "You feelin' alright, mate?"  Muent asked, not even bothering to hide his sadistic smile.

                "Wha' ye do?"  Jack asked slowly, having to force the slurred words from a leaden tongue.

                "Best think twice about acceptin' drink offers from now on, mate."  Muent replied simply, reveling at how jerkily Jack dragged himself to his feet.  "Impressive.  I'm surprised you're still awake after that large a dose."

                Jack staggered on his feet, the effects of the drug causing the room to tilt and spin violently.

                "Ye b-"

                The simple sounds were all Jack was able to say before a sudden wave of blackness rose up, squelching the room's light into unyielding darkness.

                Muent watched with a cruel grin as the pirate staggered once more before finally succumbing to the effects of the potent drug.  He waited a few minutes, sipping at his mug of rum, making absolutely sure the poison had taken full effect.  The last thing he needed to deal with now was a thrashing, drugged pirate.

                After taking a last swig of rum, Muent stood, stretched, and turned his attention to the man lying unconscious on the floor.  A dark smile tugged at the corners of his lips, even as he heard the front door of the tavern creak open.  The soles of worn boots plodded across the worn wood floor, echoing through the muggy silence of the tavern.

                Ana stepped up beside her accomplice, now dressed in a loose shirt and breeches.  When her gaze fell on the motionless form by Muent's feet, she took in a sharp breath.

                "What is it?"  Muent asked, not taking his eyes off Jack's body.  He noted casually that the pirate's breathing seemed labored.  "Hmm…that's interesting."

                "Wha—how's he alive?"  Ana asked in dumbfound manner, staring wide-eyed at the pirate lying before her.

                "Why does this surprise you?"

                "Well he—last night I—he was…"

                Muent nodded.  "Thought ye killed him, huh?  Well, hate t' burst your bubble lass, but knowing this sack of filth, it'll take a lot more than being smothered with a pillow."

                "How do ye know 'bout-"

                "Not important.  What _is_ important is that we deal with this lowlife…and soon.  Can't have anyone askin' questions, now can we?"

                Ana quickly drew herself back into the present, stepping casually over the body on the floor, her eyes taking on a stony glint.  "Ne'er mind 'im.  I'm here t' collect my reward."

                Muent's smile dropped and he nodded shortly.  He pulled a large pouch from his vest pocket and dropped it into her waiting palm.  She bounced the pouch in her hand, expertly testing the weight of the contents to its value.  She glanced at Muent, then at the pouch, then nodded.  Spinning on her heel, she departed from the tavern and headed for the docks.

                "I expect t' see my boat t'morrow."  Her voice echoed back before the tavern door swung closed behind her.

                Muent's temper flared unexpectedly and he released his vexation on the closest object—Jack's nearly lifeless body.  He drew back his foot and viciously jabbed the solid heel into Jack's side, drawing a satisfying crunch as the boot connected with Jack's ribs.  The smile returned as no reaction was forthcoming.


	2. Part 2

[a/n:  Sorry I didn't clarify this before, but this story takes place in the 10-year span before the movie, after Jack lost the _Pearl_.  Sorry for the confusion!]

**An Endless Tale**

**Part 2**

                Jack woke slowly, eyelids heavy and actions groggy from the drug's lingering effects.  He weakly lifted his head from its resting place on his chest and examined his surroundings through hooded eyes.  The dim lighting, when combined with his hazy vision, made identifying an exact place impossible, but based on the gentle rocking beneath him, his fogged mind concluded he was on a ship.  He shifted, noting with dismay that most of his body was completely asleep and that moving proved rather difficult.  Jack slowly attempted to rise, using the beam he was leaning back against as a support, but ran into a slight problem:  his hands were tied through a loop on the post behind him.  The pirate growled a bit to himself, his mind only now beginning to clear ever so slightly.

                "'Bout time ye're up, mate."  A mocking voice echoed from the vast expanse of shadows in the room.

                Jack's body tensed as much as its barely reactive state would allow and he squinted, searching the shadows ahead of him.  The voice seemed very familiar, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out where he had heard it.

                "So Jack, where did we leave off?"  The voice asked casually, an evil tint in its tone.  It then chuckled, as if just remembering an old joke.  "Oh yes, we were discussing your fate, as it were."

                Jack's eyebrows came together slowly, indicating his confusion regarding the voice's words.

                "Still don't get it, Jack?  Well, let's shed some light on the topic, no?"  The voice sneered, a sudden flare of lantern light accompanying the words.

                Jack's eyes slammed shut, trying desperately to block out the intruding light.  When he ventured to crack his eyes open, he was first met by a simple silhouette of a man against the lantern light, but the details soon began to fill themselves in.  He eventually found himself looking up at a tall, dark-haired man with sharply defined features curled into a sneer of the purest hatred.  Strewn around the room where several rusting tools and weapons of various ages, some with their uses obvious and some being among the strangest contraptions Jack had ever seen.

                "Ah good, you're still awake…I was afraid the poison had taken a larger toll than intended and that you'd miss out on all the fun," the man droned casually, picking up a set of large, sharp-tipped tongs with multiple prongs.

                Jack inched as close he could to the pole at his back, unconsciously putting as much distance as possible between him and his supposed captor.  His eyes narrowed dangerously, not trusting this man's intentions in the least.  "Fun, ya say?"

                The other man grinned harshly, the lantern light casting strange, eerie shadow patterns over his face.  "Oh yes, fun…well, for me at least.  It's about time you learned your lesson, Sparrow.  And I'll teach you, even if it means tearing you limb from agonizing limb."

                Jack shuddered unintentionally, a knot of dark fear growing and constricting in his gut.  He felt tendrils of dark energy reaching up from within him, clouding his mind and further hazing all his movements.

                "I wonder Jack, what part of your body do you value the most?  One would think, given your liking of bedding wenches, that…well, I think you get it."

                Jack's eyes widened as much as they possibly could as what the other was speaking of hit home.  His gaze locked worriedly on the sharp-pronged tongs in the man's hand and the knife hanging from his belt.  "You wouldn'…"

                "I would.  S'less than you deserve, anyways."  The other man hissed, a evil smile playing across his face as he unsheathed the knife with his other hand.

                The darkness was now flooding his mind in waves, growing heavier by the second.  His chest constricted with anxiety, making breathing incredibly difficult.  His eyes began falling shut of their own volition and as his head drooped to rest on his chest once more, he heard his enemy's last words, echoing through the darkness of oblivion:

                "No!  The poison's…"

                Muent glared down at the effects of his handiwork, irritated that the poison had relapsed.  '_I'll have to remember to use smaller doses in the future to avoid this situation…takes all the fun out of things._'  Muent thought the last with a shrug, stepping closer to the pirate, knife and tongs brandished dangerously in his hands.  He kneeled down in front Jack, pushing the man's knee out of his way.

                The door to the hold swung open unexpectedly, sending brilliant light cascading down the stairs.  Muent fell back in surprise, landing hard on his rear.  He cursed his bad luck as Ana stormed down the stairs, her jaw set.  She stopped a few feet off, assessing the situation with hard eyes.

                "Ye're sick," she growled finally, her voice laced with disgust.

                "None o' your concern," he shot back shortly, glaring at her from his place on the floor.

                "Right, now where's my ship?"

                Muent pulled himself from the floor, grumbling to no one in particular.  "I'll go git things in order."

                Ana nodded briefly and made to follow him topside, but remained below.  She closed and locked the door, then descended the stairs once more, making her way over to the prisoner.  She kneeled in front of him, then placed her fingers beneath his chin and tilted his head up for her viewing.  The lantern light danced across his slack features, clearing outlining the angles of his handsome face.  His eyelids were coated in slightly smeared kohl and his cocked jaw revealed a few golden teeth.

                She withdrew her hand as the excessive heat from his body transferred into her skin.  Her eyebrows came together in concern as she realized what Muent had missed:  it wasn't a simple poison relapse that had caused the pirate to pass out; it was the fever he had contracted overnight.

                Despite her previous views of the man, she felt herself pitying him for the slow death that Muent would surely subject him to.  She wasn't even sure _why_ she had hated him so in the first place; the man had never done anything to her personally.

                Then, it clicked.

                Her accomplice's opinion had been rubbing off on her over the past few months.  It had been molding itself to her mind and making itself hers.  She took a sharp breath as this realization sank in and her opinion of the unconscious man before her did a complete turnaround, changing from a deep loathing to compassion.

                Jack Sparrow would not die at Muent's hands…not if she could help it.

                Ana retrieved the knife Muent had dropped on his way to the main deck and sat behind the pole to which Jack was tied.  She placed the blade against the bonds and began sawing, making swift progress through the thick rope.

                She froze at the doorknob's rattling, indicating Muent's return.  She tossed the knife into a shadowy corner, then sprang to her feet as the lock gave.  Moments later, Muent descended the hold stairs, followed by three burly men.  Ana casually rose to her feet, not daring a second look at the unconscious pirate.

                "Well?"  Ana asked evenly, a dare glinting in her eyes.

                Muent's face twisted into a feral grin.  "Seems there's been a change of plans, m'dear,"

                "Like what?"

                At the supposedly prearranged signal, two of the three men lunged forward and seized Ana by the arms.

                "Tie 'er up," Muent ordered casually, "and then meet me on deck."

                The brutes nodded, then set about their appointed task, requiring two of them simply to hold the female in place long enough to ensnare her wrists in rope.  She spat at each of them, biting and swearing viciously, attempting to gain a freedom she knew was well out of her reach.  Once Ana was tied securely to another support beam across the room, the three turned and left, ignoring the scratches they had received from their fray with the female.

                Once the door had been shut securely, Ana looked over to Jack.  The lantern was beginning to burn low, casting uneven light throughout the room.  Jack's face was consequently cast in shadows, and the lack of light masked the slow movements of his chest.

                "Jack," Ana hissed, "untie me!"

                Jack's head jerked slightly and he managed to look up to meet her gaze, but with great difficulty.  From what she could tell, the fever was taking its toll, weakening the man quickly.

                "C'mon Jack, it's the perfect time…let's git outta here!"  Ana said quickly, rephrasing her request.

                "What do you care?"  Jack said slowly, his voice heavy.

                Ana's eyebrows came together in dismay…wasn't he even going to _try_ to escape?  She lowered her gaze, a blush coloring her cheeks.  She felt so stupid.  Of course he wouldn't want to help her, she had tried to kill him after all!  "Jack, I'm sorry…"

                No response came from the pirate and she cautiously looked up.  By all accounts, he seemed to have slipped back into unconsciousness as his chin once again rested on his chest.

                "Jack…you okay?" she ventured.

                "Resting," came the sluggish reply.

               Silence fell in the hold, the only sounds that could be heard were the ship's timbers settling and the waves sloshing against the hull.  Minutes later, four sets of footsteps echoed from the deck above, nearing the hold door.

                Ana held her breath, fearing what might happen, but making sure not to let her emotions show on her face.  In accordance with this decision, she forced herself to release the breath and take three deep breaths to calm her nerves.

                Surely Muent wouldn't kill her.  She had been his partner for too long.  True, Jack was pretty much a dead man for whatever offence he had done to Muent, but that wasn't her concern at the moment.  Anger flared inside her at the returning realization that she had been completely cheated in the whole deal.  She had held up her end of the bargain; she got the compass.  Now Muent was going back on his word—the purse he had given her earlier had only contained five pounds and a few stones to make it weigh the same as the agreed amount.

                The door swung open quickly, momentarily blinding Ana with a flood of light.  Large figures soon blocked the light as they descended the stairs and then the light vanished as the door was shut.  Muent and his three thugs lined up in front of Ana and Jack, sneering down at the prisoners.

                "Sorry Ana, but I can't have you messing things up anymore."  Muent said with mock sympathy as he drew his sword from the sheath on his belt, the hiss from the action echoing through the hold.

                "I don't care if you kill me…just mind that if you do, your own flesh and blood'll be on you."

                Muent grinned savagely and backhanded her across the face, splitting her bottom lip.  "Watch yer tongue, wench…I may just have to cut it out.  But first," he sneered, turning his sights to Jack.  "I'll take care of yer friend."

                "He's _not_ my friend."  Ana growled, her voice dangerously low and her eyes burning with hatred.

                Muent stopped his pacing towards Jack and walked back to Ana.  "Not your friend?  Is that why you let him live when your orders were to kill?  Hmm?"

                "I thought he was dead…by all accounts, he _should _have been-"

                "Enough excuses."  Muent snapped suddenly.  "I'll just have the pleasure of killing _Captain _Jack Sparrow with my own two hands.  It's less than what he deserves, but it shall have to suffice…wait.  What would be the fun of killing him in one fell swoop?"  Muent asked himself as he sheathed his sword and instead claimed a long, thin wooden pole from the ground as his new weapon of choice.  "Yes, this should be _fun_."

                The three large men chuckled, but Ana didn't find any humor in the words.  Muent roughly slapped the side of the pole on Jack's ribs, forcing a groan from the man.

                "C'mon Jack, git up and face me like the man you _aren't_."

                "S'Captain Jack Sparrow…savvy?"  Jack returned weakly, gasping from the blow to his ribs.

                "Shut up."  Muent growled, hitting Jack's ribs again, harder this time.

                Ana's eyes widened and pleaded with Jack to stop his foolish talk; it would only make things worse for both of them.

                Apparently, Jack didn't get the message.

                "That all ye got, mate?  That lass o'er there could hit-"

                Jack was cut off as the pole slammed across his chest, knocking the air from his lungs.

                "Muent, knock it off!"  Ana yelled, temporarily putting a stop to the little game of poke-the-pirate.

                "I'll do as I like," Muent snarled, his eyes not leaving Jack even as his fist connected solidly with the other man's jaw.

                Jack slowly drew his head back to lock his gaze with Muent's, his eyes blazing with a challenge and his jaw set, despite the blood flowing from the corner of his mouth.  "Very brave, mate.  Hittin' a man when he's bound and drugged.  Congrats, to you fer yer audacity."

                "Keep a civil tongue, ye filthy bilge rat!"  Muent yelled, infuriated, and thrust his fist forward, intent on breaking Jack's nose.

                Jack moved his head to the side at the last minute, thereby avoiding Muent's fist, which unintentionally connected with the sturdy wooden beam to which the pirate was tied.  The impact to the corner of the beam split Muent's knuckles, causing blood to spill from the newly created gash.  Muent cradled his injured hand, alternately muttering and yelling curses to the pirate captain.  He brought back one foot and repeatedly started kicking Jack, unleashing all his penned-up anger.  Jack took the hits quietly, his eyes closed as if he were simply sleeping, but the set of his jaw proved him to still be conscious.

                '_What's he doin'?!  If he _lets_ Muent use him as a punching bag, there won't be any 'him' left!_'  Ana thought to herself, squeezing her eyes shut.

                Muent finally backed off, breathing heavily, and leaving Jack badly bruised with blood staining his shirt.  Jack was also breathing heavily, but not as much as Muent.

                "That…all ye…got, mate?"  Jack muttered between deep breaths, a mocking undertone in his voice.

                Muent's rage peaked again and this time he kicked Jack squarely across the cheek, splitting the skin over his left cheekbone and eking a crack from the pirate's neck.  This time, Jack did not straighten, instead his body slumped to the side, the last strand of the ropes holding him breaking from the awkward strain.

                Muent grinned harshly, his eyes glinting lethally in the minimal light.  "Well, it looks like Jack Sparrow won't interfere again."

[a/n:  Please review, I love seeing your feedback to the story.]


	3. Part 3

**An Endless Tale**

**Part 3**

                Ana took in a sharp breath when she glanced over at Jack.  From what she could tell, he wasn't breathing, but he didn't look completely dead—yet.  Muent collected his breath, laughing hoarsely at having beaten the infamous pirate so thoroughly.

                "Jack…?" Ana called lightly, hoping he would respond.

                She was greatly disappointed.

                "Go toss th' body overboard…let 'im drown.  No.  Better yet, dunk 'im.  Multiple times, o' course."  Muent ordered coldly, jerking his head towards the stairs.

                One of the henchmen stepped forward, then lifted Jack's body effortlessly and carried it up to the deck to fulfill Muent's wishes.

                "As fer you, Ana…"

                Muent stopped cold as a howl of pain and a splash echoed from above decks.  A evil grin once again marred his otherwise decent features.  "Well, sounds like Jack Sparrow-"

                "Tha's _Captain_ Jack Sparrow."  A slurred, familiar voice echoed down into the confines of the hold, causing Muent to freeze mid-sentence.  Moments later, the owner of the voice stumbled down the stairs, twirling a length of rope casually.  "An' I'm right here."

                Muent glared at the pirate, his hand traveling to rest on the hilt of his sword.  "What—how—"

                "Not important."  Jack interrupted evenly, his eyes glowing with a chestnut-colored fire.

                "Quite right, not important."  Muent agreed sarcastically, unsheathing another knife and throwing it at Jack's heart.

                Jack pressed himself against the ship's hull to avoid the knife and falling off the stairs.  Unfortunately, the action did not put enough distance between himself and the knife's trajectory and the cold blade embedded itself in Jack's left shoulder, spilling even more blood.  Jack hissed and winced in agony, sliding down the hull to a precarious sitting position on the stairs.  With a fortifying breath, he yanked the knife from his flesh, the action rougher than he had intended.  He slowly dragged himself to his feet once more, brandishing the knife coated in his blood.

                "Still want t' fight?"

                "Aye."  Jack said slowly, the calmness in his voice terrifying.  "But one thing, first:  you agree t' let Joanna go."

                Muent looked about the hold, apparently unaware of who Jack was referring to.  "Joanna…?"

                "He means me."  Ana said, shame in her voice.

                Muent cocked an eyebrow, then looked back at Jack.  "Hmph.  Lucky you, mate…tha's not her real name."

                "Figured as much."

                "Then why would you want a girl who tried t' kill ye—along with lyin' t' ye—to go free when you're condemning yerself t' death?"

                Ana also perked up, curious about his coming answer.  For once, Muent had posed a good question.

                "Well," Jack began, completing his trek down the stairs, tossing the rope to the side and casually wiping the blood from the knife's blade on his shirt.  "S'been my experience that," he began, circling Muent and keeping his gaze locked with that of his enemy's.  "When one needs assistance, one should take th' opportune moment."  He finished, surreptitiously tossing the knife to Ana, who caught it in her teeth.

                "Say wha'?!"

                Jack merely grinned before landing a punch across the other man's face.  As Muent's head snapped around, the two remaining ruffians stepped forward, fists raised.  Ana quickly cut her bonds and was at Jack's side in an instant, the sharp-bladed knife raised in a fighting position.

                "Any more brilliant plans, Jack?" she asked.

                "Jus' one…you git outta here."  Jack answered, his voice void of emotion.

                Ana's eyes narrowed.  "I'm not leavin'…not because ye told me to.  I don't take orders from _anyone_ anymore."

                "What if I said it were for yer own good?"  Jack questioned knowingly.  "Jus' go…I can handle them."           

                Ana glared at Jack before handing him the knife.  "You're death won't be on my head."

                Jack nodded, his attention fixed on the three large men circling them.  "Git outta here while ye still can."

                Ana quickly slipped from her place beside Jack and dashed from the dark boundaries of the small ship's hold, not once looking back.  Jack stashed the knife in the sash tied around his waist and raised his own fists.  From the glint in his eyes, he seemed ready to fight to the death.  As Ana disappeared, the three sailors closed in on Jack, trapping him inside their circle.

                "Y'know Jack, that were a big mistake, lettin' her go."

                "I'll live with it."

                With that last statement, the fists began flying.  Jack dodged as many blows as possible, but despite his best efforts, more hit their mark than missed.  Muent landed the first, his fist driving itself into Jack's gut and knocking the air from his lungs.  As Jack doubled over from the blow, another fist caught him under his jaw, pushing his body upwards once more.

                All three of the fists came in at once, landing their blows before Jack could dodge or defend.  When the fists withdrew, Jack was breathless and shifting his gaze constantly like a nervous, trapped animal.  He carelessly wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and cheek with his shirtsleeve, only succeeding in further smearing the red liquid.

                "Yer in o'er yer head, Sparrow."

                Jack grinned, then winced as the cut on his cheek split further.  He struck out with his own fists, catching one of the brutes in the nose and the other in the gut.  As they came at him once more, he seemed more cautious, moving like an experienced hunter instead of the hunted.  He disabled one of them with an uppercut to his nose, killing the man instantly.  The large bulk dropped to the ground, blood pooling around his head.

                Hearing the other coming at him from behind, Jack swiftly drew the knife from his sash.  Spinning on his heel, he met the man halfway, and his opponent dropped to the ground with the knife stuck in his chest.  Jack pulled the knife from the corpse and slowly rose, more alert than usual.  He scanned the dark corners of the hold, searching out his true adversary.

                "Lookin' fer me, Jack?"

                Jack whirled to face the voice and was met with the wooden pole cuffing him across the head, but not hard enough to knock him out.  He landed on the wooden floor with a hollow thud, the knife skittering well out of his reach.  Not that having it in his reach would have done him any good.  Muent hauled Jack to his feet, keeping a tight grip on the pirate's shirtfront.  He placed the pole beneath Jack's chin, then shoved the shorter man up against the beam, using the pole beneath his chin to lift him off the ground.

                "So Jack, ready t' die?"

                "Wasn'…plannin'…on…it…" Jack muttered sarcastically through gritted teeth, the pole at his throat slowly cutting off his air supply.

                Moments later, Jack's eyes fluttered shut despite his desperate attempts to free himself and his body fell limp, dragged into unconsciousness by the lack of oxygen.  The pole was sharply removed from his neck, allowing the dead weight to drop to the ground.  Muent spat down at his fallen foe, grinning darkly.  He shoved the toe of his boot under Jack's side, then flipped the pirate over.  He grinned evilly when he was absolutely sure the pirate was a suppressed threat…

                "Soon to be a non-existent threat," Muent muttered to himself, placing the tip of the blade at Jack's throat.

                "That's right, you will be."  A voice echoed, twisting the meaning of his spoken thought.

                Muent spun to face the too-familiar voice, only to find Ana with a pistol strapped to her side and a cutlass pointed at his throat.  He smiled, the expression sending a chill down Ana's spine.

                "Ye wouldn't kill me…as you said before, if you do, 'your own flesh and blood'll be on you'."

                Ana shrugged indifferently, acting unnervingly much like Jack.  "I'd rather that then Jack's blood on me."

                Muent's eyes widened before his face settled back into the evil smirk.  "Ah, then my suspicions were righ'?  Ye 'ave feelings fer him."

                Ana's eyes narrowed dangerously before she went on the attack, swinging the cutlass expertly at Muent's midsection.  Muent jumped back, having anticipated the attack and blocked her next strike with his own cutlass.  The two exchanged blows, moving through the cramped hold as best as possible and remarkably, neither stepped on, or tripped over, Jack's body.

                The two came around for another lap of the hold, but Ana stopped their progress by landing a sound hit to Muent's side, severing the flesh to the bone with a clean swipe.  Muent doubled and grabbed his side, red pooling between his fingers.

                Ana stepped back, a smug look on her face as she raised the cutlass, which glinted red in the waning light.

                "You do realize this'll curse ye?  Sheddin' yer own blood…"

                Ana stopped Muent's mouth by stepping forward and heartlessly shoving the already bloodied weapon through his chest.  She pushed it again, bringing the guard to meet his chest.  Muent's eyes widened, glazing over quickly.

                "Sorry, but this had t' end…brother."  Ana whispered, removing the blade from Muent's body and watching his legs buckle, dropping the lifeless body to the floor.  She staggered away from the fresh kill, putting a hand to her forehead and rubbing her temples.  The lantern burned itself out, dousing the small, musty room in complete darkness.

~*~

                Jack flinched noticeably away from the cool, damp feeling wiping itself over his brow.  He groggily tried to bring his left hand up to shoo the feeling away, but found he couldn't move his arm without fire-like pain shooting through his body.  He tensed and took in short breaths, trying to fight the pain.

                "Jack, relax, s'okay," a gentle voice soothed, accompanied by a tender hand running down the side of his face.

                Jack slowly opened his eyes and when the world came into focus, he found himself looking up into Ana's face.  The second thing he noticed was that he was lying on a _very_ familiar bed.  He grinned weakly up at Ana, the light coming back to his eyes.  "Joanna?"

                "Ana-Maria."

                Jack nodded feebly.  "Y'know luv…"

                Ana quirked her eyebrow at the use of the word 'luv' in reference to herself, but she allowed him to continue all the same.

                "I'd like it if ye'd refrain from playin' wit' pillows thi' time," he finished softly, still grinning.

                Ana returned the grin then lightly punched his good arm.  "Bloody pirate."

~*~

                "BLOODY PIRATE!!"  Ana screamed, running to the edge of the dock and shaking a fist at the retreating vessel.  "JACK SPARROW, BRING BACK MY BOAT, YE THIEF!!!"

                "I'm merely borrowing without permission…hopefully I can give it back someday!"  Jack called back, directing the small craft out of the bay.  "Sorry luv."

[a/n:  And that's that.  Hope you liked it and please review!]


End file.
